Shoes on the Shelf
by Muggle Jane
Summary: A very special pair of shoes gets shuffled around the Burrow until they find the perfect spot. But what secrets do they hold? Fluffy, fluffy Christmas fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a bit of belated Christmas fluff.**

Mrs Weasley had given me a long look when I'd asked her if I could help her decorate, a look that seemed to float nervousness around the room. At last she'd accepted my offer, though, the resignation in her voice almost thick enough to reach out and touch. I had that planned for later, for just right now I was already busy.

She was surprised to come down to the kitchen to see me already there. I set out a cup of tea and a plate of the muffins I'd baked as soon as I'd woken up, and she sat at the table, watching me, brown eyes bright with unasked questions. "Are you normally up this early?" she asked, as soon as she had enough tea to make her mind and her tongue connect with proper speech.

"No. I'm having a hard time sleeping, and I thought I'd make some Christmas biscuits. Gingerbread," I explained as I pulled a tray covered in thin brown shapes out of the oven. I set them to the side to cool and sat down opposite her with my own cup of tea, inhaling the bitter scent gratefully. "I'm finished, I wanted to make sure I was done before you started cooking. You get very cross when other people try to do things in your kitchen while you're cooking."

She gave me a long look as though she was trying to decide what to say, but settled on, "Thank you." Her eyes moved past me, drawn to the shoes on the window. "Are those shoes in my window?"

I smiled happily, nodding. "They are!" I turned to look at them myself. They were very special shoes. Tiny, soft, green. The toes curled up at the end, a single bell hanging from each tip, ready to be set jingling. Very special shoes indeed. It wasn't time to tell her about them yet, though. She hadn't had enough tea not to get cross with me. "I'd ask you if you wanted help preparing food for today, but I expect you'd only tell me no, so instead I'm going to go and pick some fresh mistletoe."

I finished my tea and stood from the table, pushing the chair neatly in as soon as I was out of it so that it wouldn't get in her way as she busied herself around the kitchen. Moving to the door, I pulled my cloak down from the peg I'd hung it on when I'd come in the previous evening and wrapped it securely around my shoulders. It was early enough that it was still dark and foggy outside, a chill fog that wrapped the house in silence and would cling to me as I moved through it.

"Luna." Mrs Weasley's voice pulled my attention back to her. There was a note of warning in her voice, the one that said she was warming up to a scolding. "You're not going outside without your shoes, are you?"

I looked down at my feet, bare and pale. I had been intending to, but Mrs Weasley was likely going to have a great many things to say to me if I did. "My shoes are upstairs." I was sleeping in Ginny's old room, the room she'd abandoned when she moved in with Harry. The look in Mrs Weasley's eyes sent me out of the kitchen and up the worn stairs to where Ginny's old room overlooked the garden. I glanced around, but my shoes weren't anywhere to be found. I wasn't actually certain I'd brought them. I'd been staying at the Burrow for awhile now, long enough that I couldn't recall what I'd brought with me and what I hadn't. I normally didn't wear shoes, George didn't mind me working in his shop without them.

I took my wand from where I'd tucked it behind my ear and held it in front of me. "_Accio_ shoes." My rainbow-swirled trainers didn't appear, but after a moment, the tiny green shoes I'd set on the kitchen windowsill flew through the still-open door and landed neatly in my outstretched hand. I smiled down at them fondly, turning and leaving the room the way I'd come in.

Mrs Weasley was still in the kitchen, looking distinctly cross as she watched me walk back in. Her wand was in gripped tightly in her hand, her eyes fastened on the shoes in my hand. "Those almost hit me," she told me, disapproval thick at the bottom of her voice.

"I'm sorry. I tried to summon my shoes, and these were the only ones that came." She was standing before the sink now, between me and the window. I was going to have to find a new home for the shoes. "I don't think I brought them with me."

She was gearing up to talk to me at length about my lack of shoes, and it made me smile. She only did that with people she loved, it made my heart a little warmer that she included me on the list of people she would talk to like that.

Her voice carried after me as I went out into the living room, looking for a new home for my tiny shoes. The Christmas tree filled one corner, bright and green, making my smile just a little bigger. It was always so warm here, always so comfortable. It was welcoming for everyone, even for me after I'd moved in when my final year of school finished and I had nowhere else to go.

Heavy footsteps moved swiftly down the stairs, then a low, male voice followed by, "Charles Weasley, put your shirt on! Luna's in the next room!" The extensive words to me about my lack of shoes stopped with this sudden shrill directive.

I was still looking around the room when I felt a large hand drop on my shoulder, followed by a rather amused-sounding, "Happy Christmas, Luna."

I turned and put my arms around his neck, hugging him close. It was nice to hug Charlie, he wasn't as tall as any of his brothers. "Happy Christmas, Charlie."

After a moment he released me, stepping back to display that he was just wearing a pair of faded grey pyjama trousers. He hadn't followed his mum's directive after all. "I don't know why she's upset about you not wearing a shirt, I've certainly seen more of you."

"Luna? CHARLIE!"

Charlie winced. "Swimming, Mum. Swimming," he called to her, evidently enough to stop her from abandoning her kitchen. "What're those?"

I followed the line of his blue eyes down to my hand. "Shoes, of course. I'm looking for somewhere to put them."

His eyes lifted and scanned the room, finally settling on the tree in the corner. "They could go on the lower branches of the tree," he suggested.

"That's a marvelous idea! Thank you!" I smiled brightly at him before turning and moving over to the fragrant evergreen, stooping to tuck the shoes neatly near the bottom. Straightening, I nodded, satisfied with their placement. I clapped happily before turning back to him. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

A broad grin covered his freckled face. "It's funny, I can sleep through dragons bellowing and blasting, but Mum's lectures will wake me up out of a dead sleep." He glanced towards the kitchen, then leaned close, dropping his voice to a murmur. "I'll distract her if you want to pop out for a bit."

I clasped my hands in front of my face, smiling as widely as I could. "That would be lovely. Thank you, Charlie." I watched him walk back into the kitchen and draw Mrs Weasley into a conversation. I waited until I heard her answering him back before following after him and slipping across the kitchen while her back was turned, easing the door open and closed behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

It was light when I came back to the house sometime later though not sunny; fog still blanketed the house snugly. My cloak was soaked through, my dress beneath fairly wet as well, and my feet scratched and wet, cold against the stone steps that led up to the house. My arms were full of fresh greenery, and I could only manage to bump my elbow gently at the door, with no hands to open it.

After just a moment the door opened, and Harry looked down at me for a moment with a curious look on his face. "Luna, I thought you were still sleeping!"

I peered up at him over my sodden bundle. He looked wide awake and curious as to what I was doing on the back step with an arm full of plants. "It's a bit late to sleep, isn't it?"

The expression on his face showed that he'd just woken up, or perhaps he'd been up for a while and he and Ginny hadn't managed to make it out of bed until quite recently. "Come in." He moved aside, looking down at my armful with some concern. "Do you need a hand?"

"I don't see why, I have two of them. I just need to get these set down, and then I can dry everything off." I moved past him, into the entreating warmth of the house.

Mrs Weasley caught sight of me, and her lips compressed into a thin line between her teeth as she looked from the bundle in my arms down to my feet. A torrent of loving admonishment flowed from her mouth, following me once again into the living room, where I set my bundle down in the middle of the floor.

Ron looked at the kitchen from where he was seated across the chessboard from where Harry had obviously been sitting, eyebrows raised in some concern. He looked back down at me, admiration shining frankly through his freckles. "How can that not bother you?"

I looked at him for a moment, trying to discern his meaning, then his eyes moved behind me to the kitchen and I smiled brightly. "It means she loves me. It is nice to be loved." I sank to my knees beside the many boughs and sprigs I'd gathered, pulling my wand from behind my ear.

"Luna." Hermione's voice pulled my attention away from where I was drying the foliage with great puffs of fragrant steam. She sounded upset, somehow, and I looked up to see the apology on her face. She was standing beside Ron, one hand on his shoulder, the other stretched out in front of her. "I'm sorry, Crookshanks pulled these off the tree, and I couldn't stop him in time. Charlie said they were yours."

I dropped my eyes to the small green shoes she held in her hand, then smiled gently up at her. "That's fine, I'll find somewhere else for them." I rose again, brushing down my dripping cloak as I moved over to take the shoes from her.

"Let me get that," Harry offered. He hadn't retaken his seat across from Ron, and now he moved up behind me, reaching deftly in front of me just as I reached for the shoes, unfastening the cloak and heading back out of the room with it, likely to return it to its spot beside the door.

"- soaked through! -" came a sudden burst from the kitchen as my fingers closed over the soft material.

"What are they?" Ron's curiosity came up from the other side of the chess board, and I nodded in approval. It was good for Ron to be curious.

It seemed a bit obvious, though. I looked from the shoes in my hand, across to where he was watching me. "Shoes, of course."

"Wee things," he marveled. "Elf shoes?"

It wasn't time to explain them yet, though, and I just shook my head, my eyes already moving around the room, seeking a new home for them.

As I looked, Hermione stepped up beside me, her arms closing around me. I stopped my search and turned to hug her as well, and then Ron got up and Ginny appeared in the room, and there were many Christmas hugs and kisses for everyone. It was so nice to have such a family, my cheeks felt like they would never fall out of my smile again.

"Here," Ron offered after we were finished, holding out his hand to me. I looked up at him in question, and he nodded at the shoes. "I can put them up on the shelf, Crookshanks can't get them up there."

It was too tall for me to reach at all, likely for Charlie too, but Ron was able to get them up there quite handily. They jingled merrily as he slid them into place between framed pictures of the Weasley family. I looked up at them and then nodded, satisfied at their new home. Hopefully they would be able to stay up there. "Thank you." With that taken care of, I sank down once again in front of the bundle I'd brought in from outside.

I became aware that my dress was steaming too, a look up showed Hermione pointing her wand at me, a concerned look on her face. "Oh! Thank you!" I'd quite forgotten about my blue-and-silver dress, it had become quite wet as I'd climbed the old oak trees in search of mistletoe.

"Mistletoe?" Hermione asked, sounding amused now. I could see the look she exchanged with Ginny, the smile she didn't quite manage to keep from her face.

"Yes. It's best when it's fresh, you see." I sorted out the tiny sprigs with white berries from the sprays of holly with its jaunty red berries and boughs of pine with long needles.

"Need a hand?" Ginny asked, echoing Harry's earlier offer. She'd settled herself on the sofa, but she seemed ready to get up and sit down beside me if she needed to.

"No, thank you. I already have two of them." Greenery separated, I stood, using my wand to direct it all over the living room. Mistletoe in the doorway, holly up on the shelf with my shoes, and pine hanging from the tops of the window. It was lovely now and I smiled, clapping happily. It was starting to look perfect. Now only one thing was missing.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the family arrived throughout the day. Bill and Fleur and their baby girl, George, Percy. More friends arrived too, until the house was full of bodies and talking and laughter, a happy press of warmth that kept the smile on my face.

Fleur was sitting on the sofa beside me, nursing her lovely daughter. "Who has put baby shoes on the shelf?" she asked, sounding amused as she stared up at the belled shoes waiting up on the high shelf. Her question came out easily, lightly, but the phrase _baby shoes_ seemed to ripple out, causing silence and attention as everyone turned to look either at her, or at the shoes up on their perch.

"Elf shoes, aren't they?" Ron asked, but he sounded decidedly uncomfortable, his ears growing red as he realised the ramifications of his what sister-in-law had just asked.

"They are baby shoes," I confirmed, looking up at them fondly, one of my hands moving as if on its own to rest across my belly. "I thought they were just the sweetest things when I saw them."

"_Tres charmant_," Fleur agreed, squinting up at them. "Too small for my Victoire. I cannot believe _ma bebe_ would have ever fit in those." Her gaze dropped to the fuzzy head dozing at her breast. "They grow so quickly." Affection and a touch of regret wreathed her little girl, drawing me into its embrace as well.

"Baby shoes?" Ron repeated, his eyes fixed on me. "Those are baby shoes?"

"Yes. I don't suppose they'll fit the baby when it's Christmas again, but I simply couldn't resist." It had been silly, I knew, but I'd just had to have them when I'd seen them. All thoughts of practicality had fled from my mind.

Fleur nodded sagely, a very knowing look in her eyes that spoke of her own tiny impulse purchases with no practical application. "They are yours, Luna?"

I nodded, smiling happily into the sudden silence that filled the room and spread out beyond it, into the drizzle that had started to fall outside.

The moment stretched out until Hermione moved over to me, bending over to wrap her arms around my shoulders. "Congratulations," she enthused firmly, as though daring anyone to contradict her.

"Well," Mrs Weasley said faintly. She was sitting in her chair over by the Christmas tree, eyes shining brightly. The time was right. Any earlier and her worry may have made her cross instead of happy, but surrounded by her friends and family, all that was left was happiness. "This calls for champagne." She rose, rubbing the skirt of the cheery apron she was still wearing across her face, taking the tears away from her eyes. She pulled Mr Weasley out of the room with her, and I could hear her sniffling before conversation resumed around us, a happy buzz tinged with curiosity and speculation.

"I didn't know you had a bloke," Ron said as he bent down to hug me as well. There was curiosity in his voice, a question that went unanswered as he straightened up again.

There were many more hugs, and a round of champagne passed through the room with a glass of pumpkin juice for me. There were toasts, congratulations, and many intimated questions that were answered with a smile.

At last attention was turned to dinner. There were too many bodies to sit down at the table in the kitchen, so plates were passed around and people ate where they could find room. I was moving through the kitchen when a hand closed over mine, drawing me out to the back garden, the door shutting behind me.

George was staring down at me, arms clasped in front of him partly against the chill and partly in his anger. He looked cross, he looked happy, he looked... lost. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded as we huddled in the drizzle on the back step, voice hushed against the crowd inside. Temper he'd taken on when the other half of his soul had died,

I looked up at him, remembering... The first few times had been desperation, an urge to feel something beyond the nothingness that filled him. He'd needed to lose himself, and he'd done so in my body, in the physical sensations that chased away reality, at least for a while.

The last few times had been more. Seeking, tender... freckled hands moving slowly across pale skin... whispers, sighs... his arms around me after, holding me close.

"We're not together," I told him quietly, looking up into his face. He winced as though I'd hit him, but I hadn't meant anything hurtful with my words. "And I don't know that you're ready to take that on."

"But it's mine, yeah? I mean..." Doubt shadowed his eyes. "It is mine?" At my nod, he continued, voice raising with his emotions. "It's going to come out with a head full of red hair and the Prewett nose, and there's going to be no question that it's a Weasley. Not Ron's, not Bill's... You just met Charlie, didn't you?"

"I've known Charlie for a while now, we're good friends."

My statement seemed to make him even angrier, though I didn't know why. "It's not going to be too hard to put together, is it?"

I just looked at him evenly, watching him sort through the tangle of emotions. He seemed to deflate, shoulders slumping as he looked down at me. Fear. "It's mine, though, ours..."

"He is ours," I affirmed softly, looking down at where my fingers were splayed over my abdomen.

A tentative smile shone through as his brown eyes dropped to my abdomen as well. Hope. "He? It's a boy?"

"Yes."

"Can we name him Fred?"

"Of course." I'd barely got the words out before his arms were around me, crushing me to him, his mouth hard against mine. Just for a moment, though, and he released me looking altogether sheepish. "Shit, Luna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

I smiled up at him, my lips still tingling from his heat, his enthusiasm. "It's fine."

He kissed me again, rather more gently this time, his arms around me secure instead of an attack of excitement.

The door opened, but George didn't seem to care, unwilling to release even my lips. There was a span of expectant silence, and then, "George Fabian Weasley, how dare you drag poor Luna out here in the cold!?"

George pulled away, grinning, and a look to my left showed Mrs Weasley standing there with her hands on her hips and an odd shine in her eyes. Her torrent of words followed us back in the house, escorting us around the table as George piled a plate high with food for me.

Much later I was drowsing on the sofa in the mostly emptied house, my head on George's shoulder, his arms tightly around me as though he was afraid I would slip away. "Why did you put the shoes out?" he asked, his voice a quiet murmur against the snapping of the fire in the kitchen.

I didn't open my eyes, but a tired smile spread across my face. It had been a long day. "I knew that if I put them out, everything would work out. And it gave Fred a way to be here, even though he isn't yet."

Lips moved over my hair and the squeeze of his arms around me told me that he appreciated it, more than any words he could have spoken.


End file.
